


The Greater Good

by Fox_In_A_Box



Category: Soul Eater
Genre: Crack, Established Relationship, Fluff and Crack, Humor, M/M, Post-Anime, References to Canon-Typical Violence, Short One Shot, Some Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-02
Updated: 2018-11-02
Packaged: 2019-08-14 17:16:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,206
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16496843
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fox_In_A_Box/pseuds/Fox_In_A_Box
Summary: Justin has an odd request while he and Giriko are on the field. Giriko is understandably puzzled.[Prompt #49: "Take off your shirt."]





	The Greater Good

**Author's Note:**

> Here is where I took the prompt from: http://mymiscfandomimagines.tumblr.com/post/165227911567/drabble-list-2

"Take off your shirt."

 

Giriko looked over to the Death Scythe, unsure of what he had just heard. Justin was kneeling on the ground, eyebrows furrowed in concentration. So concentrated, in fact, that he didn't even look up to meet his puzzled expression when he spoke next.

 

"You heard me," he said. The tone of his voice was stern, pragmatical, completely at odds with the strange request he had just made. "Take off your shirt."

 

"I know your God operates in mysterious ways, pretty boy, but you don't really have to. What do you even need it for?" Giriko huffed, but started to unbutton his shirt anyway. He made quick work of it, lingering just for a moment on the memory of the last time Justin had been so keen about him taking off his clothes. Such a pity the circumstances were drastically different, now.

 

This time Justin _did_ look at him, and he did so with an unimpressed expression painted on his face.

 

"Isn't it obvious?" He asked, snatching it from his hands and going back to… whatever he was doing. "Honestly, I find you quite lacking in first-aid techniques for someone who lived more than eight-hundred years. Then again, you did have bodies to spare..."

 

Giriko was about to argue that no, it wasn't obvious _at all_ , and that if he really needed his help he might as well stop talking like a smartass and actually tell him what he was supposed to do, when a loud ripping sound interrupted his train of thoughts.

 

"Oi, what the fuck are you doing?!"

 

His shirt, his stylish black shirt he had owned for a good thirty years was ruined. And all because Justin had deemed sensible to rip it in a half, for whatever reason.

 

"We can't let him bleed out," Justin explained, as he began fastening what used to be the right sleeve of his shirt around the young meister's leg. He tied a knot, then a second one, testing them to make sure they were tight enough and ignoring the poor boy's cries of pain.

 

Ah, right. They were supposed to rescue a team of DWMA students who had had the brilliant idea to face off against the minions of a powerful witch and get them back home safely. He had almost forgotten about that. He cast a brief glance over his shoulder and noticed the meister's partner, visibly intimidated by their presence, watching them from a safe distance.

 

When he and Justin had been summoned by Lord Death and tasked with the mission, he had argued that surviving the ordeal would teach the little brats a valuable lesson about not messing with the big boys while they were still fighters in training - if they survived, that is- but Justin had shot him a look that screamed disapproval and he had decided not to insist any further.

 

Giriko couldn't deny that at least the first part of the mission had been fun. What had started as an attempt at fighting back to back had soon turned into a game of 'whoever manages to take down more of these pathetic thugs wins', which had granted him a precious opportunity to lash out, blow off some steam without having to worry about keeping up appearances  - something that since he had started working for the DWMA happened all too rarely for his taste.

 

He had even won the bet with twenty-three kills against Justin's nineteen, which had been extremely satisfying in itself, even if a little obnoxious voice inside is head kept suggesting him that maybe, just maybe Justin had let him win only to see what he would ask out of his victory. Giriko grinned to himself. He already had a couple of pretty good ideas.

 

It was once again the voice of his partner to bring him back to reality.

 

"Did you fall asleep? Tired of working already?"

 

"Oh, fuck off!" He scoffed, his growl turning too soon into a chuckle.

 

"Now, now," Justin reprimanded him, a wicked smirk forming at the corner of his mouth. "What did we say about language? Here, help me get him on the car."

 

Giriko gave a grunt of acknowledgement and complied.

 

 

******

 

 

The sun was already setting when they finally reached the gates of the DWMA.

 

The nurse who met them at the door spared Giriko's bare chest an odd look, but didn't speak as she and her assistants hurried to get the two students inside so they could properly tend to their wounds.

 

"That's the problem with you DWMA people," Giriko said, as the two of them turned their backs to the huge building and started making their way towards their shared apartment in the outskirts of Death City. "Hard work is never rewarded. Not even a 'thank you' after we've been running around all day to save their students' asses."

 

"Well," Justin mused. "Judging from the look that nurse gave you, she would have been more than happy to give you a reward."

 

Giriko couldn't keep himself from bursting into a fit of laughter. "Who are you and what did you do to the priest who kept complaining about my - and here I quote, 'foul mouth'?"

 

Justin rolled his eyes, but it was pretty clear that he was fighting back a smile.

 

It was then that Giriko realised that, with the sun having almost disappeared beneath the horizon, he was starting to feel a little cold. He eyed Justin's black coat, but immediately banished the thought.

 

It would have meant admitting that he, who had survived eight-thousand winters in the freezing outskirts of Prague, was bothered by a light autumnal breeze and there was a whole set of reasons why he couldn't afford it - first of all the inevitable loss of face right in front of his former rival.

 

What he _could_ do, however, was put his arm around Justin's shoulders and pull him closer, to benefit at least from some of his body heat. The younger man tensed in response to the sudden gesture, but soon relaxed in his hold.

 

"You know you don't need to come up with weird-ass excuses to see me naked, do you?" Giriko purred, leaning in so that his lips were almost touching Justin's ear.

 

"It was for the greater good," Justin said, dismissively. "As far as I'm concerned, your fashion sense is entirely expendable. But yes, I have to admit that I prefer you wearing nothing at all, if that's what you're asking."

 

Giriko found himself unable to decide if he should have felt flattered or pissed off, a situation that, much to his annoyance, kept presenting itself more and more often since he had started working alongside him.

 

And deep down he knew he should have been worried - no, he should have been _outraged_ by how the Death Scythe had been able to domesticate him in such a short time, to turn him from a bloodthirsty wretch of a man seeking revenge and self-destruction, into a begrudgingly cooperative former criminal with an embarrassing soft spot for one of the 'good guys'. He knew it, yet he deliberately decided to ignore it.

 

After all, it wasn't nearly as bad as he would have thought. Actually, it wasn't bad at all.

**Author's Note:**

> I just want them to be happy and playfully trash talk each other while working together, ok?


End file.
